


Sam's Hidden Talent

by erratrus



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Dean, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Jealous Dean, Light BDSM, M/M, Omega Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-09 00:45:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10399926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erratrus/pseuds/erratrus
Summary: This is a tiny snippet of a much larger Wincest, alpha/omega type fan fiction I'd like to write. I am hoping, if I get a little positive feedback, that might motivate me. Anywho, in this story Sam is taking Dean to a club and has quite a surprise for his brother and the alpha he longs to have claim him. Dean is about to learn that his brother did more than geek out at Stanford. When the lights go out, the music starts, Deans inner turmoil ensues over just how coordinated and seductive 6'4" can be and just how possessively jealous he really is.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a scene I'm hoping will be in an AU SPN fiction I want to write so one thing that will help make it less implausible is to picture a younger Sam. He will actually be a supernaturally altered human with improved strength etc but, for now, just think early twenties.

Sam's Hidden Talent

“So…. Parliament House. Huh” Dean mused as he and Sam entered the locally popular gay nightclub. “This was Max’s idea?” Sam had that slightly evasive, embarrassed expression that had been flitting across his features for the past week, every time this proposed outing was mentioned. “Well, he dances here, like I told you,” Sam replied as though that cleared everything up.”Witch, hunter, gifted in flirtation. Is there anything the man cannot do?” He was sure Sam would be irritated by his sarcasm but his brother was ignoring him. Dean considered prodding until he got a rise out of Sam but the truth was he'd been excited from the first moment Sam brought the idea up. There had been a gleam in Sam’s eye that Dean had never seen before.  
He just knew there was more to this and that he was about to learn something new about Sam. Of course, ‘it could be that Sam is hooking up with Max’ an unwanted voice growled in the back of Dean’s mind. However, though Dean knew how interested Max was in Sam and could not miss how attractive Max was, damn him, his Sammy senses had been tingling as though his brother was emanating some kind of extra positive kinetic energy. Maybe it was the narcissist in Dean but he could swear he was having a similar effect on Sam, lately, as well. His mind kept supplying the cliché that “sparks were flying between them” while they both did their best to pretend not to notice.  
Whatever was going on, tonight had something to do with it and Sam, for all his efforts to play it cool, was beginning to vibrate with undeniable anticipation. Dean wasn't really surprised when, completely out of character, Sam grabbed his hand and dragged him straight to the bar. He ordered himself a margarita and 2 strong shots plus a beer for Dean. The music was too loud for Dean to ask Sam who all the drinks were for and he just stared with his jaw agape as Sam downed the 2 shots and started chugging the mixed drink.  
Within minutes, Max rushed up to Sam, full shot glass in hand. To Dean’s utter consternation, Sam was just swallowing the last of his drink. Already, as Dean well knew from past experience, Sam had enough alcohol in his system to end up on a karaoke stage. Nevertheless, Sam allowed Max to pour another shot down his throat. He spluttered and choked a bit but was expressing his gratitude? Dean was really confused by now as Max turned to him with a mischievous grin. “I gotta steal your man for a bit. Enjoy the show!” Dean was too shocked to chase after them much less register Max's use of “your man” to refer to his brother. There was nothing to do but watch Sam disappear through a door near the large stage on which several guys were dancing in g strings…

“I don't know if I drank enough to do this, Max.” Sam looked terrified but elated. The bright red flush of his cheeks and his nervous giggle were more than enough to bely his inebriated state. Max placed hands on Sam's shoulders fixing him with a warm, intense stare. “I already know your secret, Sam, and you’re a natural. And you know it. We could have done this without even rehearsing. Not that it would matter, pretty as you are, but your body will take over. I ain't worried. Now that we shut your mind down a bit.”  
Sam could feel the pleasant haze jamming his normally overactive thoughts and knew he was slipping into that suggestive state that would allow him to go with the flow. This was how it had all started so long ago in those gay clubs at Stanford. He had never told Dean about his exotic dancing alter ego he had accidentally discovered during his time away at college. Luckily, he was quickly becoming too impaired to panic about how Dean would react. He barely even noticed Max deftly stripping him down and strapping him into what was more accurately described as harness than costume. “You promised my ass some coverage,” he whined only vaguely amused at how much he sounded like a pouty teenage girl. Max snickered as he clipped the chain to Sam’s leather collar. “I'd have preferred to put you in these,” he crooned while wiggling his shapely ass so nicely displayed by the latex assless chaps….

Dean was on his third beer as he sat restlessly at a small table near the stage. The DJ had announced Max would soon be performing along with a “special guest”. He had his suspicions who that guest might be even though his mind rebelled at such a ludicrous suggestion. Sammy? Writhing around seductively on stage at a gay strip club? Despite being a hunter and having experienced the bizarre from time travel to heaven and hell, it still felt like there was no room in this universe or any alternate one for a stripper Sammy. Not that he wouldn't love to see such a thing but it was just one of the few potential experiences he would still relegate to the “never gonna happen” list. Maybe Sammy was just going to be a prop placed in a chair on stage while Max gave him an award winning lap dance. Dean took another swig of beer to drown the twinges of jealousy this last thought stirred within him. It was a relief to be distracted by the dimming lights as the first notes of a pop song began.  
It was the kind of somewhat jazzy, mellow thing Sam probably listened to when Dean wasn't there to complain. Just as the lyrics began with “Sharing secrets with another world  
Rubbing shoulders with some unknown lovers” a single spotlight illuminated Max emerging from behind the curtains. He was garbed clearly to look like a businessman in a trench coat, fedora and carrying a black brief case. He moved with subdued grace communicating to his audience that for now, he was maintaining a normal, socially acceptable daytime persona. But as the music was building to the first chorus, his movements became more furtive as though he was just waiting to escape prying eyes eager to unleash something wilder.  
Sure enough, when the lyrics switched to a seductively monotone slow chant, “trip…”. The spotlight on Max was extinguished. “Switch…” the stage was completely veiled in blackness. “Trip…” For the duration of only 2 beats a second spotlight revealed the other half of the stage that had thus far been completely dark and Dean felt as though his heart was stuttering and contorting in his chest.  
His Sammy was playing the unmistakable role of sex slave clad only in some kind of full body black leather harness. Hands bound by cuffs connected by chains, a chain ran from his collar as well to the stripper pole that his body rested against. He seemed to be purposely maintaining a listless sort of defeated pose on his knees, head bowed so that his hair obscured his face. “Switch…” Sam was enveloped in darkness once again the spotlight back on Max who had removed his outer layers during the few seconds the audience could not see him and metamorphosed into a completely different character. His lean, dark, smooth, muscular body glistened, wrapped in skin tight latex. The vest and chaps somehow combined with Max’s sinewy but aggressive predatory movements to create a surprisingly intimidating effect. As the rest of the first verse continued, Dean could read the message loud and clear that Max, portraying the sexually dominant alpha male was preparing to enjoy the secret nighttime pleasures of playing with his captive toy. Sam.  
“Trip…” the chant started again and Dean heard the crack of a whip that Max had somehow produced out of nowhere and had snapped menacingly in the direction of Sam's side of the stage. “Switch…” Sam’s spotlight came on as his head raised in apparent fear of his approaching master. “Trip…” Max swung the whip skillfully so that it cracked in perfect synchrony with the down beat and much to close to Sammy’s scantily clad body for Dean’s comfort. “Switch…” Max somehow expertly ensnared the forearm Sam had raised to block the whip while his left hand was entangled in Sam's hair forcing his body to straighten and bow backwards so that he had to gaze up at his master’s hungry expression.  
Dean was struggling against the urge to protect his brother though these feelings were rapidly eclipsed as wave after wave of heat and arousal flooded his body. He thought he'd never seen anything more beautiful than Sam’s initial wide eyed, parted lip expression of innocence and fear. Head tipped back, his hair cascaded beautifully down his neck and back. The criss crossing leather of his harness made an enticing pattern across the muscles of his torso that rippled as he took panting breaths through those soft pink lips that had held Dean's attention for as long as he had known Sam. With his hands bound behind him, Sam's broad, muscular shoulders and arms were on full display. Dean was surprised how turned on he was by the blend of Sam’s lean but very masculine physique contrasting with the feminine quality of his vulnerability. It wasn't just a result of a very well played dominant master/submissive and bound slave scenario.  
As the music continued, the dynamics between Max and Sam fluctuated between the initial pretended assault and implied intention of rape to a more sensual interaction when Max was more affectionate toward Sam, coaxing him to open up and let go. As talented as Max clearly was, Dean was in awe of his brother and what he was doing with his body. Sam was the epitome of perfect pliance, seemlessly sensitive and receptive to Max’s cues and movements. The two undulated hypnotically around one another and the pole against which Max seemed to have an endless repertoire of lewd poses he managed to arrange Sam's long limbs and body into. He would briefly restrain Sam in these various appetizing positions while letting his hands grope various body parts much to the appreciative audience’s delight.  
Sam was virile yet supple and slinkily submissive perfection being put expertly through his paces by his owner. Dean could swear the audience was being schooled in proper care and keeping of ones treasured submissive as Max seemed to relinquish more and more control to Sam. Though Dean would take his next thoughts that he considered to be nauseatingly poetic quietly to his grave, Dean found his thoughts taking a very uncool turn toward snappily romantic. This was particularly the case after Max lovingly unlatched the chain from Sam’s collar and sat back giving Sam more space and it seemed to Dean like watching a caged bird take flight.  
If Dean had enough wits about him to fear the potential disaster that 6’4” of momentum and centripetal force could result in, such concerns would have proven needless. Max’s slave was now the worlds tallest and most playful nymph. He alighted upon and twirled around the pole that had become a jungle gym to an overgrown yet nimble child. Too soon, the song was coming to an end and Sam’s movements were transitioning to something new. He had lowered to all fours crawling wantonly toward Max. Then, inches from his master, both facing each other on their knees Sam smiled almost shyly. He had clipped a chain back to his collar and was now holding it out for Max to take. He was offering himself, all of himself willingly asking to belong to his lover.  
Max gripped the proffered chain but used his other hand to gently cup Sam's face. Turning into Max's touch, Sam allowed himself to be pulled onto Max’s lap his long legs straddling the other man’s pelvis. They were close to where Dean sat now and he could finally confirm that both had full and barely contained erections now rhythmically grinding against one another. Still, as the music was fading, what Dean found most mesmerizing and more erotic than even his beloved cartoon porn was how Sam and Max kissed. After whips, chains and two truly hot gyrating male bodies, Dean would not have expected such a vanilla act to reduce him to a pubertal state. But Max and Sam’s eyes were locked. Sam had placed a hand on the side of Max’s face, his long fingers splayed across his jaw except for his thumb which was tracing Max’s lower lip. As their bodies rocked and ground together in a gentle motion they panted into each other's soft and parted lips. Soon, they began to taste and nip at each other finally closing the distance in a deep and passionate kiss.  
Maybe it was the shock of seeing Sam, the lifelong object of his fantasies and unknowing owner of his heart, doing something so completely unexpected and erotic that allowed an orgasm to take Dean by surprise and climax right there at the table in full view of the public. He was a grown man who had stopped being a victim of his dick many years ago yet, here he was, with that familiar warm wetness soaking into his briefs.  
Dean knew he should be making his undignified way to the bathroom but Sam had slid off the stage and was approaching him in that costume that would have been prime blackmail footage if he'd had the wherewithal to snap a picture and well…. Dean just didn't give a damn who noticed his little ejaculatory accident. There was just a moments hesitation, Dean searching Sam’s face trying to confirm that every bit of his brothers heated gaze was truly focused on him. That none of him still lingered behind with his gorgeous dance partner. He was reassured though by the conspiratorial way in which Max had gently pushed Sam in his direction when the performance had ended in a “go get ‘em” sort of way.  
There was also the tentative self consciousness of Sam’s approach that seemed both hopeful and afraid. Neither of them took notice of the way most eyes were glued to them and to Sam’s ass in particular. Sam’s eyes were practically begging, bravely pleading for Dean’s acceptance and after all the shame Sam had needlessly endured in his life, all the times he had been wrongly deemed contaminated and weak, there was no way Dean was going to leave Sam with any doubts in his mind about his feelings for his little brother.  
Dean stood and heard Sam’s breath leave him in a whoosh as he pulled Sam into a bone crushing embrace. “Sammy,” Dean rasped into Sam’s ear voice laden with emotion, “that was amazing.” “You are amazing and…” Dean couldn't figure out what else it was he wanted to say and just gazed up into Sam's face with adoration. Sam’s face flushed as he smiled but then continued in a more anxious tone. “It wasn't weird? I mean I know I'm not as good as Max but I hopefully didn't…. I mean I was worried…” Stammering Sammy was one of Dean's favorite things and had him even hungrier to silence him with kisses but he managed to restrain himself so Sam could articulate his concerns. “I was just worried it would be this excruciatingly awkward thing for you, you know? Talk about not manly. I think I've completely outed myself if you hadn't already figured me out and I'm not just talking about orientation. If I'm gonna scare you away, I might as well do it right. So, Dean…” Sam seemed to panic briefly then resumed. “I've loved you my whole life and wanted you since I was eleven and if I could go back in time, I'd st least have invited you to Stanford where I got hooked on this erotic dancing stuff all because I was at gay clubs trying to distract myself from you…”. Sam shook his head as though trying to reroute his words back to their original objective. “I'd have done this back then and whatever else it took to get in those jeans of yours.” Sam was somehow blushing an even deeper shade of red at this point. Gazing downward he continued softly, “was that a total turnoff? Just be honest with me Dean. Say something. Put me out of my misery here, man.”  
As Sam's eyes traveled back up to meet with Dean's once again, Dean’s expression broke into an embarrassed grin. “Sammy. I have a confession to make.” Dean watched Sam’s face go from curious amusement as he allowed his brother to grasp his hand to one of irritated indulgence as he realized Dean was placing his hand essentially on his crotch. As Sam became aware of the wetness Dean saw his eyes widen then droop. Sam’s hand pressed none too lightly against Deans dick that was showing signs of wanting to resurrect already and Sam was gazing at him with a heavy lidded expression of pure lust.  
“Saying me too doesn't quite cut it, I know” Dean continued “but hell yeah. Me fucking too. I started jacking off to thoughts of you and feeling so guilty bout all the things I wanted to do to my little brother by the time you started middle school.”  
I


End file.
